


Persuasion

by Ozonee



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Genji is a mess too but better at hiding it, Hurt/Comfort, Jesses a mess, M/M, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, more to be added in future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 06:20:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9422273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozonee/pseuds/Ozonee
Summary: Jesse McCree is ignoring Winston's calls about meeting them at Gibraltar, and Genji is sent to find out why. He learns the past five years have been unkind to Jesse and aids him in the path to healing.





	1. Convince him

The movies made it seem like Las Vegas was a lot brighter than it actually was. Most of the strips lights flickered and some were down for repairs. Genji thrummed his finger on his knee, his ankle crossed over his leg, and thought _what a pity_. He’d always wanted to see this city, it would’ve fit his lifestyle in his youth amazingly well. He wondered if the people were nice, nicer than the cab driver that kept glancing at him through the rear-view mirror.

“Pardon me asking, are you an omnic by any chance?” He finally spoke up, pulling Genji from his thoughts.

“Oh, no. I am not.” Genji gets the question almost daily when he’s in big cities, he’s used to it. “Are you?” He asked, light-heartedly.

The cabbie laughs, adjusting the baseball hat on his head, “Nah, nah. Just the helmet is all. Oh, you’re one’a them uh…” He pulls his hand off the wheel to snap his fingers, trying to think, “A cosplayer, aint’cha? We get’um a lot up here, there a convention this weekend?”

Genji can’t help but smile, “A cosplayer”, he mumbles beneath his helmet, “I am just a tourist is all. I will pay double the fare if we do not have to continue this discussion.” He kept his tone light, not wanting the man to think he’d pissed him off.

“Ah, quiet guy, I gotcha. I’ll be quiet… But, ah, you might wanna nap, y’know? This place is about an hour away.”

Genji nodded, though didn’t plan on heeding that advice. He glanced down at the communicator, old technology that Winston had given him sheepishly. He’d explained that since they weren’t technically ‘funded’ yet, and presumably wouldn’t be, they had to settle with what the scientist had laying around in the abandoned watchpoint. Genji ran his thumb over the screen and cleared a smudge there. Athena’s symbol spun when he unlocked the device, and she politely told him that he had a message.

Pressing the communicator to the side of his helmet, under his hood, he lowered the volume and listened to the voicemail Angela had left him:

“Hello, Genji. You weren’t here when I arrived last night, so I called to let you know Lena and Torbjorn arrived shortly after I did. They’re well, maybe a bit too excited and loud, but well.” She laughed lightly, “I look forward to when you get back. I have many inspections I have to do on your body… ah, also…” There’s a pause, and Genji can hear her take a breath, “Make sure he’s well. He stopped responding to my emails a year ago. I’ll see you two in Gibraltar.”

Genji locked the communicator and let out a small huff of laughter. He settled down in his seat and pulled his hood tighter around his helmet. He swallowed, a bit nervous. Closing his eyes, he focused his breathing and inhaled, then exhaled.

They hadn’t left on the best of terms.

 

oOo

 

Genji had stayed in his seat when the car pulled to a stop because he was almost sure the driver had made a mistake.

“No, this is it. What’sa matter, get catfished? Expected a mansion?” The cabbie laughed and pushed a few buttons on his machine. Before he could tell Genji the cost, Genji gave him triple the amount.

“Thank you.” Genji nodded, politely.

The flabbergasted cabbie could only nod as Genji got out of the car, pulling his guitar case, that held his katana, with him. The car drove off and Genji stood for a good solid five minutes, taking in his surroundings.

When Winston said he tracked Jesse to Las Vegas, he was expecting to find him in the penthouse suite of some ritzy hotel.

Apparently, he wasn’t like that anymore.

There was a car, someones car, parked on the lawn, though it had no wheels. The grass begged to be cut, reaching the front window in height. Genji put his hand on the chain link gate, and wasn’t all that shocked to realize it was hanging on by only one hinge.

Careful not to make much noise, he walked up to the front door but hesitated. He listened for a moment but all he could hear was the television muffled through the wood and glass. He sighed, shook his head, and knocked.

Nothing happened for a minute, so he knocked again. And, again, nothing.

Genji sighed again and knocked once more, this time twisting the doorknob after. He was pleasantly surprised to see it was unlocked, and he wondered if Jesse had been expecting company.

Pushing it open, Genji cautiously made his way into the front hallway, closing the door behind him. There was a deep smell that could only be described as garbage and old pizza, though Genji couldn’t see the pizza anywhere. He wondered if Jesse even knew where it was. He continued on into the living room and glanced at the old 40’’ flat screen playing the latest news, but noticed the indentation on the couch and the cold beer that was still dripping condensation on the coffee table.

Genji closed his eyes and raised his hands submissively before he even felt the gun press against the back of his neck.

“I’m gonna take the gun off your back and let’cha walk out real slow-like. Dunno what you thought you’d find in a house like this.”

Opening his eyes, Genji smirked through his visor, “You are right, a fool I was to think I’d find anything of value in here.” He turned his head, showing Jesse the glow of green from his helmet. Jesse stood for a few beats, as if not believing who he was seeing. He lowered the gun and Genji did the same with his hands.

“The hell’re you doing here?”

“Hello, to you, too.” Genji stepped away, further inspecting the house. The empty beer bottles and a vodka bottle under the table, rolled under after a night of forgetting everything. “I refuse to believe Blackwatch paid so little.”

“Genji,” The almost plead made Genji turn to the man and finally gave him a chance to look at him. Messy, unshaven, donning a stained blue plaid shirt and jeans. “What’re you doing here?” He asked again.

“I’m here to talk, since you refuse to answer Winston’s calls.” Genji stepped away, walking to the kitchen and leaning to look down the hallway. “He was worried you’d been attacked. Talon.” He explained evenly, trying to not let his voice give away the peaking curiosity at Jesse’s lifestyle.

“Well, I ain’t.” Jesse placed peacekeeper back into it’s holster, Genji wondered if he ever took it off. “Don’t even know how you tracked me.” There was a tiredness in his voice that Genji guessed was him beating himself up for not covering his tracks better.

“Your old communicator.” Genji said simply, “You kept it after all these years and answered the recall.” He briskly walked down the hallway and ducked his head into the rooms, looking and inspecting to see more of Jesse’s fabulous lifestyle.

“Yeah, look, about that-- Would’ya stop? Nobody else is here.” Jesse barked, obviously uncomfortable seeing his old comrade seeing his life, judging him. At his tone, Genji did stop, but only to look at the man. At least he looked like he took weekly showers. His arm wasn’t swelling from not cleaning his prosthetic properly. He definitely looked well fed, evident by the slight pudge curving above his belt.

“I’m here to bring you to Gibraltar.” Genji stated, watching as Jesse looked surprised, then pained.

“Look,” Jesse’s eyes remained on the floor, “The night the recall went out… I had a bit much to drink--” He ignored Genji interrupting with ‘shocking’ to continue, “Pressed the accept notification-- it was a mistake. I ain’t…” He sighed, his shoulders sagging, “I ain’t strong enough to go through with all that. Again. I’m retired.”

“Jesse, I refused to believe you can’t shoot. We know you collect bounties. We know you do jobs.”

“Damn, why don’t you tell me what day of the week I shit, too, huh?”

“We know you’re strong enough and I refuse to believe you didn’t honestly think about it when the recall came up. Why else would you keep your communicator charged? Why would you have it on?” Genji raised his voice, not angry, just so Jesse couldn’t interrupt him, “You’re a coward with low self-esteem and we both know Gabriel did not train you like that.”

The mere mention of the name might as well have been a punch to the stomach with how Jesse took it. He breathed out and turned away, running his hands over his face, “Genji, just…” He deflated and sunk into the creaky Laz-E-Boy chair beside the couch, putting his elbows on his knees and hand rubbing over his face, “I ain’t the young and strappin’ guy I was six years ago. Lena, Angela, Reinhardt, they all stayed with it. They do their work and are good at it, I seen ‘em. I collect low-tier bounties and order Pizza Hut so many times a week they know my number when I call. I ain’t like them. I ain’t a hero like them.”

A silence spanned across half a minute before Genji mumbled, “I’d hardly call you strapping.”

“Ain’t what you used to say.”

“I flew across the ocean to bring you back,” Genji continued, quickly, “I am leaving with you.”

Jesse stood up and sighed, “Sorry, but’cha ain’t. I’ll pay for your plane ticket back, but I ain’t coming with you.”

A staring contest was futile, it always favored Genji. They stood in silence for the good part of a minute before Genji shifted on his feet, “Very well.” He affirmed. He strode easily over to his guitar case and picked it up. Jesse gave him a grateful look and watched him, rubbing the back of his neck. All the way across the ocean for a three minute fight, Jesse almost felt bad.

“Let them know I said hi or, uh, hope they’re well, or somethin’... Haven’t seen-- hey!” Jesse exclaimed, reaching for his gun when he saw Genji effortlessly pick up the red serape that had been draped over a chair. “Hey-- hey!” Jesse sprang up and ran after Genji as he continued down the hall. At the sound of Jesse pulling back the hammer of his gun, Genji dropped his guitar case and kicked open the latch before it hit the floor, he grabbed his katana as the case clattered loudly against the cheap tile. He could feel Jesse’s heartbeat when he raised the blade to the fabric that meant so much to him.

“What, you threatening me now?” Jesse asked, incredulous, keeping his gun raised.

“Ana gave this to you, correct? Shoot the edge of my blade. If you can’t, I’ll leave, since you’d have proven yourself to be pathetic with your aim. If you refuse, I’ll cut it down the middle.” Genji spoke clearly and quickly, seeing how antsy Jesse was with his serape in Genji’s hand.

“And if I do it, what? You think I’ll just be like ‘aw gee! You were right! I’ll pack up my shit right now and we’ll head right on over to Gibraltar!’? Is that what you think--?”

Gunshots rang out when Genji placed the tip of his sword against the serape. Four, three for each shuriken that Genji had thrown at Jesse, aiming for his head, and one that hit metal; Genji’s hand on the hilt of his sword. The sword clattered to the ground and in any other situation Genji would’ve caught it and continued the fight, but he let it drop, along with his injured hand, noting that his ring finger was hanging on by a wire.

Jesse was out of breath, staring at Genji’s sword, then his hand, then glancing up at the shuriken he’d shot expertly and diverted their path into the ceiling above. He grit his teeth and clenched his jaw, holding his hand out, “Give it.” Genji threw his serape at him like a wad of dirty laundry.

“I guess I was wrong about you, the fourth shot should’ve hit my head.” He teased, knowing Jesse hadn’t aimed for that. “I would have recovered in seconds and been at your throat before you could count how many bullets you’d shot and done the math on how many you had left.”

“I would’a shot you. You ain’t faster than a bullet.”

“Why don’t we find out?” Genji kicked up his sword and took it in his left hand, the uninjured side. He planted both feet within milliseconds and charged Jesse.

Jesse had been right, Genji wasn’t faster than a bullet, but he could deflect them with ease. There were two that had hit his armor, purposely his armor, Genji noticed. Jesse, knowing which parts of Genji were fake and not, refused to shoot the spots he knew would hurt Genji the most, which was admirable.

There was a long cut on Jesse’s cheek from one of Genji’s shurikens, and another on his neck, from Genji’s blade.

He sat atop the cowboy, his sword embedded into the living room floorboard below, leg on either side of his waist, grin on his face underneath the visor.

“You are very much not the man you used to be… but you are not lesser, either. If all else fails, I will wake you at four in the morning to run laps with me, how does that sound?”

“Like hell, if I’m bein’ honest.”

Genji moved very slightly, pressing the cold steel to Jesse’s neck. He relished in the look of excitement in Jesse’s eyes. “Then pack. Our plane leaves in three hours.”

The next hour was slow. Jesse would take a moment to reconsider what he was doing, argue with Genji, and Genji would argue back. There was a point where they argued about if Jesse could sneak rum in his suitcase. Jesse suddenly had a few bounties to clear up, he felt bad leaving his landlords place on such short noticed, he needed to visit a bank-- each and every excuse shot down swiftly by Genji, who sat nearby on the kitchen counter and watched him debate himself on if he needed two plaid shirts.

The way Jesse carried himself was foreign to Genji, not at all like the man he knew a little more than five years ago. He was tired, restless, and depressed, as far as Genji could tell. He considered offering him lessons from Zenyatta when he arrived from Nepal, but kept his mouth shut, knowing it was the last thing Jesse needed at the moment. He needed to focus on getting him to Gibraltar and keeping an eye on him in the meantime. He knew Jesse. He knew he had a way with slipping out without anyone seeing him, it’s why he was so well-suited for Blackwatch.

The cab ride to the airport was quiet and tense. Jesse asked little questions, about who’s already arrived, who’s coming, how’s Winston? Genji answered truthfully, he didn’t know. He was barely there two days before Winston had pulled him aside and, though it took him a while to get it out, asked Genji to retrieve Jesse, knowing of their past friendship.

They arrived at the airport with half an hour to spare. They found their gate easily and sat down in a far corner of the lobby. Not as if they needed privacy, they finished talking for the time being. The only thing Jesse mentioned was his fake name and ID for his passport.

“Clint Westwood. little on the nose, don’tcha think?”

Genji just smiled and tilted his head back, closing his eyes for the first time since he landed in Nevada.


	2. Convince them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse settles in.

Other Blackwatch agents were annoyed when Reyes mentioned they’d be having external help from Overwatch. There were angry mutterings and mumblings before the agent even arrived to the drop ship. They guessed who it’d be. Maybe Winston or Reinhardt, they usually got along fine with Blackwatch agents. Winston would accept their playful punches to his arm as if it was just a fly landing on his skin and Reinhardt punched back, usually harder, though not intended to be.

The mumblings stopped when Genji Shimada boarded the ship with a dufflebag of his supplies and sword on his hip. He placed the bag on the seat beside him and sat down in the seat in the corner, not wanting to disturb the rowdy ramblings of the other agents. 

Jesse sat across from him, doofy smile on his face as he looked down at his communicator. Pharah had gotten hold of her mother’s unit and was sending him pictures of herself from unflattering angles. He locked his phone when everyone was situated in their seats and glanced over at the odd one out in front of him. 

He paused, then got up from his seat. He pretended to check something in his bag for the month long mission, then slid it under the seat one away from Genji. He sank into the chair and crossed his leg over his knee. Jesse wasn’t completely sure why he’d done it, but he’d done it, and there really was no turning back without getting weird looks.

He was curious.

“So, er, the ship any different than what Overwatch uses?” Jesse asked, leaning on his arm closest to Genji. He tilted his visor, and Jesse could feel the man’s eyes examining him. “Just, uh, never been on an Overwatch ship. Except when they hauled me in from jail in one. Jesse McCree.” He introduced, holding out his hand. Genji paused and took it, shaking it.

“Genji Shimada. You’re a convict?” He asked, ignoring Jesse’s other question.

“Former. Now I just work for Blackwatch.”

“There is a difference?” Genji’s tone was light, teasing.

“Oh, my heart. And I suppose the Shimada Clan sold flowers to nuns on Sunday’s.”

There was a pause, a small beat in time, where Jesse wondered if he struck a nerve by mentioning his old family business. He was fully ready to apologize until he heard the low laughter coming from the mechanical man.

“You have a point.” Genji chuckled and silence fell between the two.

They watched as other agents piled onto the ship, sitting down and getting comfortable, some already sleeping. Jesse was just wracking his brain for more jokes or puns he could tell the man so he could get him to laugh again. He bounced his knee and glanced sideways at Genji, studying his armor and wondering how much was machine.

The engines of the drop ship slowly reared and everyone started to buckle up. Jesse pulled out a pack of gum from his pocket.

“Damn altitude always pops my eardrums. Want one?” He made a choking sound as he held the packet out to Genji. There was a rumor that Genji couldn’t eat, Jesse  _ knew _ that.  _ Why did I offer him gum? Am I an idiot? Technically you don’t eat it but, well… _

Soft laughter brought Jesse back and he realized he was still holding the gum out to Genji. He hurriedly took a piece and put it back into his pocket.

“I ain’t mean anything by that-- I just forgot--”

Genji shook his head, laughter still dying in his throat, “It is okay. You’re not the first.”

Jesse nodded and tilted his hat politely.  _ Moron _ , he thought bitterly at himself.

oOo

 

The car ride to Gibraltar was quiet. The only vehicle they had prepared was an old pickup truck that Genji had driven to the airport and left waiting for their return. They made it to the watchpoint at two in the afternoon.

Jesse had on his serape, hat, and same light blue plaid shirt he’d left Nevada in. When they pulled to a stop near the main entrance Jesse unbuckled and opened the door, stretching his poor muscles after the nearly endless travelling the past day. He barely had time to pick up his bags before the doors slid open and familiar faces came to greet him.

Of course, Lena was the first.

Running quickly up to Jesse she sprang up and wrapped her legs around his waist and hugging him tightly around the neck.

“Oh, I missed you, big guy!” She cooed, climbing off of him, “How’ve you been? Long flight? Mine was killer. Oh! Winston’s napping! Been up all night worried about a potential virus on Athena’s systems. If ya ask me, I wouldn’t count Torby out for being the cause of it. Who know’s the weird hanky panky stuff he’s downloaded.”

“Lena, please.” Angela warned, her cheeks a light shade of pink at the thought. “He’s barely put his things down and you’re gossiping. Hello, Jesse.” She was pleasant as always, if not a little tired looking.

Jesse leaned down and gave her a hug, “It’s alright, Angie. Y’all know I can’t understand a damn thing Lena says when she gets goin’.”

Angela gave him a polite smile and lowered her voice, “I’ve been doing check-up’s on everyone that’s come in. You’re probably exhausted, so I wouldn’t mind waiting a few days.”

“Appreciate it.” Jesse replied, noting with a quick glance that Genji was already gone somewhere. He huffed to himself and shook his head,  _ figures _ , he thought. A slow bitter thought creeped into his mind before he could stop it,  _ he’s good at running off. _

The rest of the hour was spent reuniting with the rest of the old team. Reinhardt had pulled him into a hug and exclaimed about how big he’d gotten. Grown out. Fuller.  _ Just say fat. _

Torbjorn gave him a handshake and held onto his prosthetic for a moment or two before commenting on the shoddy work, accusing Jesse of getting it on the black market instead of sending for Torbjorn to build him one. Jesse liked his arm, there was nothing wrong with it. Everyone knew of his prosthetic, though he’d gotten it after the fall of Overwatch. Angela had probably told them. Word got around.

“There’s new people coming, too!” Lena exclaimed, hauling one of Jesse’s bags onto her back and began show him to his new room once all the reunitings had been had. “Have you heard of Lucio Correia dos Santos? He’s famous in Brazil, and, well, about everywhere now. He heard about the recall and signed right up. In a month or two we’re getting someone in from Korea, but that’s all Winston’s told us about her.” It was a flurry of information that Jesse could barely comprehend. He just wanted to go to sleep. “I spoke to Lucio over our new private servers, though! He’s absolutely fantastic, you two will get along great!”

“I think I know who’re talkin’ about.” Jesse tiredly ran a hand over his face and beard, keeping it there, “Seen pictures of him.” All the pictures he’d seen made him look young, but Jesse was confident that Winston wouldn’t hire a kid.

Lena showed him to his room and proudly announced that she had swept and tidied it for him, too. He thanked her and took the bag from her hands, inspecting the room. It wasn’t amazingly large, but it was bigger than his old one at Blackwatch. It had it’s own television on top of the dresser and private bathroom. No windows, which was going to make smoking difficult, but he didn’t mind having to go to the balcony right outside his room just to light up.

“Get a couple hours kip, yeah? We’re havin’ a big dinner to celebrate everyone being together again!” She said a quick goodbye and left Jesse to the sterile room in front of him. There was no character to the room, just another room for another soldier.

He started by pulling off his serape and draping it over a chair in the corner. His hat stayed on the dresser and his clothes--they could go unpacked for a while longer, he wasn’t in any rush. Putting peacekeeper and its holster on the bedside table, along with some ammo, he groaned and laid back on the bed. His back thanked him and joints adjusted and cracked. The bed was nice.

“Jesse McCree, what on Earth are you doin’ here?” He asked nobody, and closed his eyes without setting an alarm. 

 

oOo

 

He woke with a start, reaching for his belt, panicking when he felt his gun not there. Breathing heavy, he sat up and ran both hands over his face. Letting out a low groan, he reached for his holster and buckled it back around his waist as he stood up. Grabbing his pack of cigars he opened the door to his room, planning on going out for a quick smoke.

Roaming the hallways was haunting. The watchpoint was built for hundreds of people, not a dozen or so retiree’s with a deathwish. He tried being optimistic but he wondered what the UN would think when they got their reports in of ‘Overwatch’ conducting missions out of a dusty base in the south of Spain.

The corridors stretched on with more bedrooms until it came to an outlook, looking over the sea. He walked to the railing and quickly lit a cigar, hearing the sounds of laughter coming from below. The cafeteria was under there. He was missing dinner.

Jesse closed his eyes for a long time then looked up at the sky. Ana would tell him he was overthinking it. That he secretly relished in the idea of Overwatch being reborn. She would make his anxiety seem like background noise, and lord what he wouldn’t give for that right now.

“They made tacos, I think.” Genji’s voice came from a couple meters to Jesse’s left, scaring him nearly out of his boots when he looked and saw the cyborg sitting on the rock outcropping the watchpoint was built into. “Lena said that cumin was too spicy, I thought you would’ve been down there showing her a thing or two.”

Jesse calmed himself and took his hand off his gun, “I didn’t see ya there.” He mumbled, flicking ash off the railing and watching it flutter below. They sat in silence for a while until Jesse stood up straight, planning on running away back to his room.

“You only ate peanuts on the plane, you should eat.” Genji spoke softly, testing the waters. Unfortunately for him, they were shark infested.

“I don’t really get you, y’know?” Jesse spat, his tone filled with venom, “I figured you’d go back to pretending I don’t exist once we got back.”

“I’m not like how I was six years ago.” Genji answered. The response filled Jesse with unimaginable jealousy. “I assumed we would drop our feud and move on.”

Rage filled Jesse more than he cared to admit. The cyborg was a different man now, and in many ways, so was he. None of them made Jesse particularly proud or noble like how Genji seemed to be. He could be like that, too.

But, no. Jesse was petty.

Without another word he turned on his heel and started down the hallway, though not to his room. He needed to cool off, not brood. He directly avoided the kitchen and common room, not wanting to put a damper on the obvious good spirits everyone was having; which put Jesse in an even more sour mood for no good reason.

He found the storage area filled with crates that had been newly delivered once the recall went out. Food that Winston had ordered and weapons and ammo. Jesse dug into a box that clattered when he bumped his hip into it, the telltale sign of glass hitting glass. He picked up two bottles of rum and escaped back to his room after finishing his second cigar. 

On the plane ride there, Jesse had considered that maybe this was his calling. Overwatch will straighten him out like it did all those years ago when Gabe pulled his sorry ass off the desert hot floor and offered him a life.

Pouring himself a shot of rum, Jesse thought,  _ We’re off to a bad start. _

 

oOo

 

There was a screeching noise that woke him up at eleven the next morning, followed by an: “Oh, sorry, loves!” Lena said, over the intercom, “We just got the old announcement system up! Just testing it out, sorry again!” Static, then nothing.

Jesse groaned and rolled out of bed. He knew he stunk but he desperately needed to clammer for an ibuprofen before his hangover split him in half. With delight, he realized he’d left the medicine in his bathroom back in Nevada. He shrugged on an old T-shirt and some jeans and prepared to make the trip down to the infirmary, already planning on how to dodge Angela’s prodding questions.

He opened his door and almost kicked the plastic wrapped plate of tacos across the hallway. He paused and bent down to pick it up, reading the note that just said: “Knew you’d be tired after the flight! Eat up! - Lena”

Smiling at the note, he took the plate inside and placed it on the coffee table. Something to look forward to.

He took his time getting to the infirmary, pausing and listening to see if he could hear Angela in any other room, maybe with Winston or Lena to talk about future plans, but no. He knew she’d be in her office and it put a nervous pit in his stomach. He waited for as long as possible before his headache got the better of him, and he knocked. 

There was a sound of a chair being pushed from a desk, then heels on tile.

Angela looked surprised to see Jesse, “Oh, hello. I was actually about to ask Athena to call you up. Is something the matter?”

“Uh, naw,” He knew how he must look. Tired eyes and messy hair, reeks of booze, “Just got a headache is all. You, uh, need me?” She nodded and politely directed him inside.

“I hope you don’t mind. I finished with everyone else's assessments earlier than I thought, I was hoping I could give you a short exam.”

Of course. Angela never was one to put things off, especially after Jesse had abruptly stopped responding to her emails a year ago. As Jesse settled down on the exam table with the thin paper sheet covering it, he wondered if she thought he’d died, given his profession.

Over the course of an hour, and a couple pain killers to dull his headache, the exam went on. Simple things. She took his blood pressure and even blood samples. Knocked on his joints with a little wooden hammer to test his perfect reflexes. Asked him if he had any pain in his prosthetic arm, to which Jesse only shrugged. This wasn’t a sufficient answer, so he said no.

“I have to ask.” She started, Jesse braced himself, “How was it? When Genji came to get you, I mean.”

He let out a breath, thankful it wasn’t another medical question. “Fine. Why?”

“You shot off his ring finger. You have cuts on your face and neck. He had dents in his armor from bullets. Don’t lie to me.”

“Was a bit rocky, Angie. You know how it is.” He shrugged, non-committedly, “I wouldn’t come with him, he convinced me.”

“Genji isn’t…” She paused, choosing her words carefully, “He’s not violent like he once was. He’s a man of peace. I can’t imagine how you got him to attack you.”

“Well--” He cringed when she pushed and prodded at the sensitive skin above his prosthetic, he’d slept on it wrong, “It weren’t really an attack. More like he was testin’ me. Seein’ if I was still...uh… a good shot.”

Angela hummed in response and took to writing things down on her clipboard. Jesse tried peeking at it but she turned away before he could.

“Have you been sleeping well?” She asked, and the exam went on.

 

oOo

 

With sleeping pills and Advil in hand, he made his way back to his room. He unwrapped the tacos and took an experimental bite of one, making a face as the bland flavor. Store bought flavoring, no spice at all. Lena must’ve made it. It was good enough.

He turned the television on and poured himself a small glass of rum. As he ate, he glanced at the sleeping pills Angela had prescribed for him.

One before you sleep, no more, no less.

He popped the bottle open and took two, then chased it with rum. Lord give whoever the strength to wake Jesse up the next morning, they were going to need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if I don't reply to your comments, I keep forgetting to!! Thank you for your interest in the last chapter. Please point out any and all mistakes I make, I mostly write when its 3am. It's when the inspiration hits.


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